K.T. drank from her water bottle.  “Nefah, tell us now, what made you cry?”

“Many things.  But let me start from the beginning.  I know those from the ancient cities in Lower Egypt have knowledge that we have not learned yet.  You must try to help me if you can.”  Nefah glanced out the open doorway to be sure no one was near and then continued in a low voice.

“You know our good, young king, Tutankhamun, died just two months ago.  He was not even twenty cycles of Amun-Re.  Even though he has built many fine temples and monuments in Karnak, his tomb was not yet begun when he died so suddenly.  Near here is the Valley of the Kings where his parents were buried.  That is where my artist family is working now – my father, uncle, and two brothers.  My ancestors have worked as artists for centuries in those magnificent tombs.  Now, that all may change.”  Nefah’s eyes filled with tears, but she kept talking.

“During the rainy season when the Nile floods, the peasant farmers pay their taxes to the pharaoh by working on the tombs and temples.  They cut the rock, haul it, and construct the buildings.  Then my family and artists and artisans like them decorate the tombs and temples to add beauty and preserve the memories.  It is our way.”  Nefah paused to see if the doorway was still clear.

“The new pharaoh is Ay, the former high priest.  He has commanded that Tutankhamun’s funeral take place within seventy days.  With so much work remaining to be done on the king’s tomb, the peasant farmers were brought in to help.  But this is their busy harvest and threshing time.  So my mother and other villagers were sent to help with the harvest.  And when the temporary housing was built here for the peasant farmers, it was done so quickly that only one canal was dug to carry water both to and from their encampment.  Now suddenly, so many workers are getting ill that the overseer announced today that he is going to require that the artists and artisans move to the workers’ camp to help excavate the rest of the tomb.  That is dangerous work for my family to do—they are not made for hauling rock!  And what will keep them from getting the illness?  And if they move and my mother has to help with the threshing, I will be left alone!”